The Sleeping Princess
by Lady Jocacia
Summary: Alternative Sleeping Beauty. Princess Rosabel has a younger brother. The wall of roses surrounds the entire kingdom. Only Rosabel and her two ladiesinwaiting are cursed into enchanted sleep, while everyone else lives on. What will happen when she wakes?
1. Gifts and Curses

**A/N:** This is my first piece of fan-fiction ever. Please review. Constructive criticism would be very helpful.

The setting and the character names are all French. My kingdom of Cadenthen is not French sounding because I got stuck thinking of a suitable name! Cadenthen is merely the word 'Enchanted' scrambled around, but I like it – it helps to set Cadenthen apart from other kingdoms.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Sleeping Beauty but most of the plot, characters and Cadenthen are my own.

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**The Sleeping Princess**

By Lady Jocacia

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**Chapter 1 Gifts and Curses**

Harps, lutes and the voices of minstrels filled the Banquet Hall, blending with the chatter of two hundred royal, noble and fairy guests. All were there to celebrate the christening of one-week-old Rosabel, the long-awaited child of King Guillaume and Queen Josette.

The reason for the celebration lay softly asleep in her mother's arms, unaware of how special or important she was. She missed the mimes and jugglers who entertained guests while they dined. She slept through the noisy dancing and games that followed the last of the desserts.

When it was time for the giving of gifts, the six male and six female fairies in the Hall gathered before the thrones. They bowed respectfully to the King and Queen.

"Your Majesties, may we present our gifts?" asked the oldest of the fairies.

"You may," the King said, beaming proudly.

The oldest fairy stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on the infant's forehead. "Princess Rosabel, my gift is that you will be enchanting and beautiful." A white glow appeared in the fairy's hand and disappeared into the Princess.

Rosabel stirred a little within her soft woollen blanket and went back to sleep.

The first fairy returned to the group and the second fairy came forward in the same way. "Princess Rosabel, my gift to you is that of kindness." Again, the white light appeared and disappeared, and smiling, the fairy returned to the others.

And so it went for every fairy afterwards.

The third fairy's gift was that of a glorious singing voice, the fourth was that of grace. The fifth gave the gift of cleverness, the sixth gave a talent for playing music. The seventh's fairy's gift was compassion and mercy, the eighth was humbleness and respect for others. The ninth gift was that of storytelling, the tenth was the gift of humour.

The eleventh fairy had just given the talent of painting when the doors of the Banquet Hall burst open. A very old and thin fairy entered the Hall, striding towards the Royal Family. The old fairy's hair was wild and her eyes glittered darkly. Her wings were grey and ragged around the edges, and her garments were not beautiful: the torn hem of her dress dragged on the floor behind her.

All the guests turned to stare and quite a few of them gasped.

The herald dropped his cup of wine and leapt to his feet. "The fairy Mérane!" he shouted into the deafening silence.

"I know who she is!" King Guillaume said sharply. Then to the newcomer, "What are you doing here? You are banned from this palace and its grounds."

Mérane looked at the group of fairies gathered in front of the thrones, then turned her stare onto the King. "I, also, have a gift for your princess," she said.

"Your gift is not wanted."

Mérane's eyes burned brighter. "You cannot reject my gift," she said, but did not come any closer.

The Queen hugged Rosabel more tightly to her and shrank back against the cushions of her throne. "Keep away from my daughter, Mérane!" Josette said shakily.

"To your daughter, first-born and only child, the Princess Rosabel, I give the gift of death. On her sixteenth birthday, she shall prick her finger on a spindle and die from the wound!" White light flashed through the distance from Mérane's hand into Rosabel's face. She woke up screaming.

The King was on his feet in an instant, his sword levelled at the fairy's throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see guardsmen move into the Banquet Hall, waiting for his command.

"What is this?" he shouted at the fairy. "I order you to take it back!"

Mérane's eyes flicked briefly to the sword pointing at her neck. "You cannot order me around, your _Royal Majesty_. I am not one of your subjects," she said coldly.

"Princess Rosabel has done nothing to you!" shrieked Josette, as she tried to calm her baby.

Mérane ignored Josette, and kept her stare on the King. "The life of your daughter in return for the life of my husband."

"Leave my daughter out of it. Your quarrel is with me," said Guillaume angrily.

"You started it," hissed the fairy. "You did not think I would let it go, did you, King Guillaume? You had my husband murdered and given a criminal's burial."

"Tax evasion. Trading wine without a licence. He _was_ a criminal, Mérane," the King said, his voice rough. "I do not rule fairies but when they deal with humans, there are still laws to be obeyed! As to his death, it was an accident. He should not have attacked my men when they came to arrest him."

Guillaume paused for breath. "Consider carefully, Mérane, on whether or not you take back what you have done today."

"I have done what I came to do. I do not care what happens to me, so long as I know that you will suffer!"

The King's face darkened. "Guards!" he shouted. "Throw this fairy into the dungeons until I decide what to do with her!" He did not lower his sword until the guardsmen had firmly gripped her by the arms. "You were a criminal accessory, Mérane. You could have been thrown into prison eight months ago but I thought you had suffered enough with the loss of your husband. You should have stayed away while you had my mercy."

Mérane made no sound as the guardsmen removed her from the Hall.

King Guillaume returned his sword to its scabbard and trembling – not so much that it could be seen – he sat back down on his throne. He looked up and saw the entire gathering staring at him, waiting to see what would happen next.

Beside him, Queen Josette was crying. "My lord?" she asked him. "What are we to do?"

It was then that the twelfth invited fairy stepped forward and bowed. Her name was Oriel, and she was bold and colourful, the youngest of all fairies present.

"I have not yet given my gift," she said.

"Can you reverse it? What Mérane has done?" the King asked hoarsely.

"Sadly, it cannot be done, your Majesty. A fairy's gift that powerful cannot be reversed. I can only lessen the damage."

King Guillaume nodded. "Do what you can."

Oriel walked towards the Royals and touched her hand to the still crying infant. "Princess Rosabel," she said softly. "You will not die when you prick your finger on a spindle. You and those closest to you will fall into a deep sleep for a hundred years, and until you wake, the entire kingdom will be trapped by enchantment." White light flared and disappeared into the baby Princess.

Muttering broke out in the Banquet Hall; the King and Queen looked horrified.

"What kind of a gift is that?" Queen Josette said, weeping. "It is a curse, just as Mérane's gift was a curse."

"Your Majesties, it is the only way to save Princess Rosabel's life," Oriel replied. She bowed and rejoined her fellow fairies.

A pale King Guillaume lurched to his feet and the guests fell silent once more. "Fairies, thank you for all you have given and done. And to our ladies and gentlemen, thank you. The festivities are over."

Guillaume motioned to his royal advisor, and then turned to his wife. "Come, my dear, we must go," he said gently.

Josette followed her husband out of the Banquet Hall, away from the growing voices of the guests, and back to his study, the whole time hugging her one-week-old daughter to her chest as if she could protect her from the world.

The King shut the door of his study once they were all inside.

"The fairy Oriel means well but I cannot accept Princess Rosabel's fate," he said to his advisor. "My daughter cannot prick her finger on a spindle if there are none left in the kingdom. I want every hand-held spindle and every spinning wheel with a spindle destroyed!"

"The spinners will require some other form of work, your Majesty," said the advisor.

"Then we will import thread and they can take up weaving!" snapped the King. "Arrange it!"

"Yes, your Majesty." The advisor bowed and made his exit.

Left alone, King Guillaume hugged his wife and kissed his daughter. "I will not let this happen. Our daughter will be safe."


	2. The Old Gamekeeper's Quarters

**A/N:** Thank you so much to blue pacific angel for reviewing. The next _three_ chappies are for you.

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**Chapter 2 The Old Gamekeeper's Quarters**

As Rosabel grew up, the gifts the fairies had given her presented themselves. She was talented, beautiful, kind and intelligent, with a sense of humour that - much to her parents' disapproval - often went awry and lent itself to mischief.

She was also a private person and often needed time to be alone.

Two days before her sixteenth birthday, Rosabel found herself attending one of her mother's social gatherings. All around her, the ladies of the Court gossiped. The latest scandal: the drunken infidelity of a certain nobleman while his wife, The Lady Leala, was away visiting her ill sister.

Rosabel felt on edge, not wanting to listen to hurtful rumours while Lady Leala was not there to defend herself or her husband. Laughter broke out close to Rosabel. Much too close. She frowned and stood up. "Excuse me," she muttered, and walked out of the room.

She kept moving until she was outside, and even then, she did not stop. Without thinking, she went to the furthest reaches of the palace grounds: the woodlands near the Royal Forest. She looked up and stopped in surprise.

An old hut was half-hidden by a tangle of honeysuckle vines and overhanging oak trees. Rosabel had been this way many times before and never once noticed it. She picked up her skirts and went towards the hut, stepping over the crocuses and fallen branches in her way.

Finding the door around the other side, she pushed aside the woody vines and peered through the large keyhole. Shafts of light entered through two high windows on the far wall, but the inside was still gloomy. The single room was full of large objects covered with very dusty sheets. She guessed that it was the old gamekeeper's quarters and was now used as a storehouse of some kind. It looked forgotten.

Rosabel put a hand to the door knob. It was locked.

She turned away, disappointed.

At supper that night, King Guillaume asked what she had done that day, after she had walked out on her mother and the ladies of the Court.

Rosabel's face turned a bit pink. Her parents knew very well her dislike of ill-intentioned gossip. The moment she had returned to the palace, her mother had spoken to her about her behaviour.

"I went for a walk in the grounds and I …" Rosabel hesitated as a new thought came to her. If no one knew about the hut, then it would be a secret place for her to go whenever she wanted to be alone.

"You what, dear one?" the King asked.

Rosabel looked at her father and saw that he was smiling as he waited.

"I found the first of the spring wildflowers," she said. _Well I did_, she told herself. _After I found the old hut_.

"What did you find?"

"Oh, gladioli, purple gromwells, dog roses," she replied.

"The usual early spring flowers," said Guillaume. "Did you pick some?"

"No," said Rosabel, not feeling very comfortable. "I do not need to pick them when there are so few to brighten the grounds. I will wait."

Hoping to end the questions, she bowed her head and looked down at her bowl. It was hardly touched: she was too excited about finding a way to get into that hut.

"Are you feeling alright?" asked her mother. "You have not eaten much."

"I am fine, Mama. I am just not hungry."

"She is thinking about her future husband," Prince Lamond said loudly. He was Rosabel's ten-year-old brother. "She is wondering when one is going to come."

"I am not!" said Rosabel, momentarily forgetting about her find. Many times she _had_ wondered, though. So far, her parents had not arranged a marriage for her. She knew of other princesses who were Lamond's age and betrothed to be married when they turned sixteen. She frowned. She was getting old. At this rate, she was destined to be a spinster.

"A prince will come for Rosabel when he is ready. Now hush, Lamond!" said Queen Josette. "And finish your supper!"

"What about Rosabel's supper?" asked Lamond, grinning.

The Queen turned a sharp look on her son. "Leave her be!"

Prince Lamond lost his grin and quickly went back to eating his food in silence; Rosabel stirred her spoon through her barely touched stew and wondered how she was going to get in.

After a night of tossing and turning, Rosabel had an idea. She could prise open one or two boards of the hut's wall. The hut was old; surely some of the planks would have worn out by now.

She waited until after breakfast, then went down near the gardeners' shed to see if anything was suitable. The smell of chicken manure was in the air. Rosabel wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore it. When no one was around, she peeked inside. She needed a lever of some kind. She saw trowels, potting containers, pruning saws, hoes …

_A trowel would be easy to carry_, she thought. Rosabel grabbed one and tucked it under her arm. Her fine linen dress would be damaged, but she did not care. She rearranged her cloak to hide the garden tool, checked that no one would see her leaving and made her seemingly endless way to the hut. Her heart was pounding. She had never stolen anything before. _Borrowed_, she tried to tell herself. _I'm taking it back_.

Pulling out the trowel, she ducked under the oak trees and honeysuckle and looked around the hut for a suitable place. She chose the side that faced away from the severely overgrown path.

Rosabel selected a wooden plank, inserted the trowel blade beneath it, near some nails, and pulled. The wood groaned at the strain and moved slightly. She pushed the blade further into the gap and tried again, leaning back and using her weight and both hands on the makeshift lever. The trowel snapped in two, right where the blade met the handle.

Rosabel hit the ground.

She threw the trowel handle away from her and looked disgustedly at the blade still wedged into the hut wall. "So much for taking it back," she muttered.

Rosabel got to her feet and brushed dirt off the bottom of her cloak and dress. She walked around to the door and peered through the keyhole again, then slumped down in front of the door, depressed. She could not get in and she could not ask anyone to help her get in. The Princess sat there a long time, staring at nothing in particular.

Eventually, she dug the heel of her shoe back and forth into the ground, gently at first, then harder as she became more and more annoyed. Her foot jarred on the way forward. Rosabel sat up and looked to see what it was, thinking she had just hit a rock.

It was a key.

She eagerly grabbed hold of a stick and dug it out. She brushed the dirt away with gentle fingers and turned to put it in the lock.

"Rosabel!"

The key fell from her hand and thudded on the door step. It was her brother, somewhere nearby. She could not let him discover her place!

She took the key and tossed it back into the ground, kicking dirt over it.

"Rosabel!" Lamond was closer this time.

She ran around the tangle of vines and trees, slowing down before she could see her brother.

"I am here, Lamond," she said, her heart thumping wildly.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Just walking."

"It is nearly time for supper. Where have you been all day?"

She had been gone that long?

"Here and there," she replied vaguely.

His eyes became wider and his face brightened. "You are up to something. What is it? Hiding Cook's pots and pans? A cat and mouse loose in the kitchens? I want in on it."

"Lamond," Rosabel insisted. "I am too old for such pranks. Anyway, they are wrong."

"Who are you kidding? You put frogs in the flower vases last week. Though, Mama was not happy when she smelled the roses and a frog jumped out at her."

Rosabel reddened at the thought. "I should not have."

"So what are you up to?"

She sighed. "Lamond, I am not up to anything. Besides, I am sixteen tomorrow. I do not want to tell you everything."

"You are no fun," her brother grumbled.

"I thought you said it was time for supper. Come on," she said, putting her arm around his shoulders and turning him towards the palace. "Let us go back."

At supper, Rosabel could hardly get through the first course. She stared at her soup without really looking at it. All she could think of was her secret hut.

"Rosabel."

What furniture could be hidden beneath those sheets? Why did Lamond have to come when he did?

"Rosabel." The voice was a little louder this time.

"Huh?" She looked up. Both her parents and Lamond were looking at her. Her parents even looked a little upset. "I mean, yes, Papa?"

"You look pale and you seen distracted. Are you sure you are all right?" King Guillaume asked softly.

"Yes, of course I am."

"You are what, Rosabel? Are you agreeing with me, or are you saying that you are well?"

"I am fine, Papa. There's no need to worry," Rosabel insisted.

"Are you concerned about tomorrow? You should be excited about your birthday," said Queen Josette.

"I am excited, Mama. I have been looking forward to my sixteenth for months. You know that," Rosabel said.

"Have you had a good day?" Josette asked. "Has anything happened?"

Rosabel looked at Lamond, who had stopped eating with his soup spoon nearly to his mouth. He looked back at her, seeming puzzled as to why all the questions.

"Nothing has happened," Rosabel said, her voice rising. "I am fine, all right, Mama? Please, leave me be."

"All right, dear one. No more questions. I just want to make sure you are happy."

"I am," mumbled Rosabel, staring into her soup again.

Her mother sighed. A gloomy air surrounded their supper table and the remainder of dinner was in silence.

That night, Rosabel had very little sleep. What sleep she did get was filled with a single dream of her hut, a dream that repeated over and over. She would go inside, over to one of the pieces of furniture and reach out for the covering sheet, only to be called away at the last moment, not by Lamond, but by her parents.

When it was early morning, she could stand it no longer and got out of bed. She wrapped her bedspread around her and went to look outside. The sky was dark blue, just beginning to lighten. She curled up on the window seat and stared out across the palace grounds.

She remembered it was her birthday.

"Happy birthday to me," she whispered.

For some strange reason, she felt no joy at the thought. She pulled the bedspread more tightly around her and leaned her head against the window pane, waiting for morning.


	3. Sweet Sixteen

**Chapter 3 Sweet Sixteen**

When daylight came, Rosabel dressed and left her rooms.

Her family had a tradition. Whenever one of the four of them had a birthday, they would all make sure to eat breakfast together, no matter what. Her parents and Lamond were already there, waiting for her.

"Happy birthday, dear one," said Josette, beckoning towards her daughter.

Rosabel walked forward to receive a hug and kiss.

"Sweet sixteen, how do you feel?" the Queen asked.

Rosabel shrugged. "No different than when I was fifteen. I am just the same as yesterday, Mama." She went round the table and received birthday greetings from her father and brother, then slid into her chair.

"Everything is planned for tonight's celebration. What are you doing this morning?"

"Going outside and getting some fresh air," Rosabel said, picking up an apple and taking a tiny bite.

"Rosabel, why not stay in? We could do something together, just the two of us," said Josette.

"Or perhaps, you would like to play a game of chess with me?" asked Guillaume.

"Later on thank you, Mama, Papa. I would like some time on my own to think."

Josette blinked her tear-shining eyes. "I would rather you did not go out." Then hesitantly, "You would tell me if something was wrong, would you not?"

"There is nothing wrong, Mama. I am fine." Rosabel said, then kissed her mother on the cheek and walked out.

The woodland was quiet when Rosabel reached it. Her heart pounding, she dug the key out at the entrance of the hut and brushed away the worst of the dirt. Her hand was shaking so much that it took two tries before she could get the key into the lock. The key grated as it turned over and she pushed open the door.

Stepping inside, she walked over to the nearest piece of furniture and pulled off the sheet. Dust flew everywhere. She coughed and covered her nose with her sleeve, and looked at what she had found.

It was not furniture at all. She looked at it, amazed. It was a spinning wheel. She had never seen one in real life before: what she knew came from pictures and history books. Cadenthen made beautiful silks and cloths but never from spindles. Not anymore, not since sixteen years ago. Silk thread was spun by other means, while yarn and linen thread were spun out-of-country and imported.

She had asked her father once why this was so. His reply was that her mother had developed a fear of spindles, after she had hurt herself badly on one and taken ill, so he had all hand-held spindles and all spinning wheels in the kingdom destroyed. It had sounded very strange to Rosabel but fears always were. Some people had a fear of antique furniture. Compared to this, her mother's fear had not sounded too unreasonable.

She ran a hand over it: the narrow, rectangular three-legged base; the large hand-driven wheel; the drive band; the smaller wheel that turned the horizontal metal spindle which both twisted and wound the yarn or thread.

It was such a beautiful piece. It belonged in a public viewing house, not stored away and forgotten. Someone must have left the spinning wheel there before she was born. The spindle had since rusted. She ran her hand over the spinning wheel again.

_Peeu_!_ Peeu_!_ Peeu_!

A green woodpecker laughed as it flew past the entrance of the hut.

Rosabel jumped and spun around. "Just a bird," she said to herself. "No one else here."

Pain flared in her left hand.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, glancing down. Her index finger was deeply scratched and bleeding. She had caught it on the spindle as she had whirled around to look out the door. Rosabel turned to look back at the spinning wheel, suddenly tired. She put a hand out to steady herself before everything went black and she toppled over onto the dusty floor of the hut.


	4. Finding Rosabel

**A/N: **No changes to the writing in this update. I just forgot to add in the ruler half-way down the chappie.

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****Chapter 4 Finding Rosabel**

When Rosabel did not return to the palace for her midday meal, for the second day in a row, King Guillaume and Queen Josette became worried. When she did not return in time to get ready for the festivities, they grew anxious.

"Guillaume …" Josette said, hesitantly.

"Yes, Josette?"

"You do not suppose … you …" Josette turned to her husband, looking scared.

The look on the King's face was equally fearful. "Do I suppose that what Oriel said has come to pass?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"It cannot have! I had all the spindles and spinning wheels destroyed. There are none left!" he said, but the conviction in his voice was betrayed by what was written on his face.

"But …" the Queen insisted, wringing her hands together. "Where is our daughter? She would not miss her own celebration."

"She has been very preoccupied lately. Her thoughts always seem to be somewhere else," said Guillaume.

"We must look for her! Where is Lamond?"

The King strode over to his study door and flung it open. He looked at his servingman. "Bring me Prince Lamond, and hurry."

The Prince arrived quickly.

"Lamond, where is your sister?" the King demanded.

Lamond looked from his father to his mother, his eyes widening. "I do not know."

"Surely you have some idea!" Josette burst out.

"Stop covering for her," added Guillaume.

"But …"

The King grabbed his son's shoulders and shook him. "Lamond! This is not the time to be fooling around. If you know something, say so!"

Lamond looked scared. "Rosabel just wanted some privacy, that is all."

"_Where is she_?"

"I do not know exactly. I found her in a far corner of the grounds yesterday, she … she might be there."

"Gladioli, purple gromwells and dog roses," said the Queen.

"_What_?" Guillaume turned to look at her. "You are talking flowers at a time like this?"

Josette glared at him. "Rosabel mentioned them the other night, when you asked her where she had been. They are woodland flowers."

The door of the study swung open again, this time from the outside.

The servingman did not wait for their attention. "Your Majesties! Rosabel's ladies-in-waiting have fallen asleep. We cannot wake them!"

Queen Josette was horrified. "The curse! It _has_ come true!"

"What curse?" asked Lamond, looking terrified of the answer.

Guillaume was white. "Lamond, stay here." Shaking, he turned to the servingman. "Tell the guardsmen to meet me in the woodland in the north-east corner of the palace grounds," he ordered, then ran out of the door.

Josette ran after him. "We should have told her!"

"Should have told her what? What curse?" Lamond shouted after her. He received no answer and found himself standing alone in the room.

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King Guillaume felt sick as he and his mount galloped towards the woodland. It was not that far away, but if his beloved daughter was no longer awake …

He had tried so hard to protect her. He had failed. Every strike of his horse's hooves on the ground caused that thought to rattle through him.

Guillaume slowed his stallion down to a fast trot upon entering the woodland. He knew he should have been travelling slower but could not bring himself to do it.

He looked around as he rode, searching for any sign of Rosabel. "Where are you, my daughter?" he whispered. He wanted to scream her name.

"Your Majesty," said one of the guardsmen.

Guillaume snapped his head around and halted his mount. He had not even heard the men arrive. "Have you found her?"

"Not yet, your Majesty, we are looking."

The group continued moving, spread out in a line to cover as much ground as possible. The search continued for several minutes before one of the men shouted out, "There! What is that over there?"

Guillaume turned in the direction that the man was pointing in. He was stunned to the see an old hut. He threw himself out of the saddle and ran, stumbling, towards it. He had to go around the side and stoop under oak branches and honeysuckle vines in order to get to the door. His chest felt like it was crushing him and he was terrified at what he would find.

He stopped in the doorway and let out a moan. His darling daughter lay on the floor of the dust-filled hut and next to her was a spinning wheel, with a rusted metal spindle. He dropped to his knees beside her, not noticing the hushed murmurs of the guardsmen who had squeezed under the oak tree and were now standing behind him.

The King put a hand to his daughter's nose and felt her warm breath. She was still alive. He removed his cloak and wrapped her in it, then gathered her safely to him. The men solemnly parted to let him through. Without a word, Guillaume put Rosabel on his stallion and swung himself up behind her. He gathered up the reins and with Rosabel cradled in his arms, returned to the palace on the most difficult ride of his life.

His return was met with accusatory stares from his wife and anger from his son.

"Rosabel!" shouted Lamond, looking at her. Then he turned on his father. "Why did you not stop this? Why did no one tell me?"

"If we had just said something, told Rosabel, none of this would ever have happened!" Queen Josette said, and burst into tears.

King Guillaume's face was drawn and pale. "I am sorry," he said, voice cracking.

He turned away and carried Rosabel up to her rooms, Josette and Lamond trailing behind him. Two extra beds had been moved in, one for each of the Princess's ladies-in-waiting.

Guillaume placed his daughter gently down on her bed and smoothed her hair away from her beautiful face. "I am sorry, dear one," he whispered, and turned away blinded by tears. He stumbled away from Rosabel's rooms and made his way into his study, only to collapse into a chair and bury his face in his hands.

The sound of footsteps a while later made him briefly look up. Josette stood before him.

"She was in the original gamekeeper's quarters. I had forgotten all about it," said the King, face buried again. "Could I have really stopped it? Did I make the right decision?"

"Which decision was that, Guillaume?" Josette asked, voice low.

"All of them," he said, waving his hands wildly. "Not throwing Mérane into prison when I had the chance nearly seventeen years ago. Forbidding people from speaking about the curse in the palace, and also when outside in the company of our children." The King's voice quietened. "Not telling Rosabel about the curse because I thought that I could protect her from it. Not wanting to scare her about a destiny I thought would not come true."

He turned miserable and depressed eyes to his wife, seeking consolation and sympathy, while fearful of what he would find.

His gaze was met with stony silence.

**A/N:** Next chappie: the Prince and his knight-companions arrive. From here on, I follow only the basic skeleton of the Sleeping Beauty fairy tale. This is where my story really gets different.

To find out more, review.


	5. The Forgotten Kingdom

**A/N:** Thank you to li'l bling bling, Semi-CrazyWithaLittleWeirdness, and kiss-of-cuteness for reviewing!

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**Chapter 5 The Forgotten Kingdom**

_One hundred years later_

A royal party came to a halt at the crossroads. A solid wall of what looked to be vines could be seen in the distance, stretching from one side of the horizon to the other.

Sir Marc, mentor and teacher, and a man in his forty-seventh year, nodded towards the border. "The kingdom of Cadenthen," he said. "Our forgotten neighbour."

"I've heard that a wall surrounds the entire kingdom. The land itself is haunted and the inhabitants are trapped. No one can get in or out," said Sir Géraud. A fly buzzed around his face and he swatted it away with a large hand.

"No," said Sir Chevalyer. "The land is cursed. Its people are punished for evil doing and are cut off from the rest of civilisation."

"Where did you hear that?" asked Géraud. "That's nothing but a myth."

"It's no worse than a haunted land," Chevalyer grumbled to his elder.

Prince Matthieu, currently second in line to his kingdom's throne, grimaced and looked at his mentor and teacher. "Marc, what do you know of Cadenthen?"

The burly knight stared thoughtfully at the wall. "The land is surrounded by enchantment, that much is true," he said at last. "Nobody has been able to enter or leave the kingdom for about a century, but their fate is tied to that of their sleeping princess." He turned in his saddle to look at the Prince. "Highness, you know that fairies grant their magical gifts to the first-born of each royal family."

Matthieu nodded. His older brother had received such gifts. He also knew that fairy custom was very different. Instead of a male-only heir like most human kingdoms, the fairy heir and receiver of magic gifts could be male or female. Fairies treated humans in the same way.

"You're saying that the first-born of Cadenthen was a princess?" asked Matthieu.

"That's correct," Marc said. "There was one fairy, Mérane, who desired the Princess to die at sixteen, by pricking her hand on a spindle. To lessen that gift, another fairy named Oriel gave her the gift – or curse, if you will – of a hundred-year-sleep. The King Guillaume decreed that all spindles be destroyed."

"But he did not find them all," said Chevalyer, looking up in interest.

Marc nodded. "When the gift came to pass, a wall of roses grew and surrounded the entire kingdom. It is said that the enchantment will end at the hundred years when the prince that the princess is destined to marry comes to set her and the kingdom free." He paused thoughtfully and glanced at the wall again. "It's about time it ended."

"Marc, how do you know all this?" Matthieu asked.

"My grandfather was one of the nobles present at the christening. He witnessed Mérane's attendance and not long after, King Guillaume began importing thread, including from our kingdom." Marc shook his head. "It was an unusual import but also good business until the wall came up. The whole world knew what had happened then, but people forget and a century is a very long time."

Chevalyer leaned forward in his saddle, grinning. "So what, the Princess must be one hundred and sixteen years old? You're out of luck, Matt. Too bad if you're the one to marry her – she must be ancient."

Prince Matthieu glared at his closest friend. Chevalyer could only get away with saying that because they had grown up together.

Marc's lips twitched as he tried not to grin. "No. Oriel's gift would have prevented her from aging. She'll be exactly the same now as she was back then. You look thoughtful, Matthieu," he said, noticing the Prince considering the wall.

"Mightn't I try to enter the kingdom of Cadenthen?" said Matthieu. He was not asking for permission but thinking out loud.

Marc looked amused. "Many eager princes have tried and failed, your Royal Highness. The wall of roses has withstood sword, burning and even canons. It also cannot be climbed over, even with ladder as the thorns catch the limbs of all who attempt it. But there is nothing to stop you from trying."

Matthieu nodded seriously. "Right then, let's go."

The group moved forward at a walk, with Marc telling the others all he knew about Cadenthen and its enchanted princess.

They travelled as far as they could along the dirt road, stopping just before the wall which blocked all passage.

"What is this princess's name?" Matthieu asked suddenly.

Marc thought for a moment. "Rosabel."

"Pretty," Matthieu commented.

He dismounted and strode over to the living wall. It was covered in one inch long thorns and exquisite white roses. The Prince stood at the base and looked straight up. The wall reached thirty feet high. He tried to peer through it but it was too dense to see what was on the other side.

Matthieu moved back from the wall, feeling the eyes of all three men behind him. He withdrew his sword and made a sideways cutting blow, not expecting anything to happen. It slid into and through the branches of the wall as easily as his knife did through a loaf of bread.

He stepped back startled, nearly dropping the sword.

Géraud, who was lazily leaning against his horse, stood up straight. "What!" he exclaimed. "You're sword … you …" He looked at Matthieu in amazement.

Matthieu looked back at the men, surprise written all over his face.

"The enchantment must be ending," Marc commented, looking pleased. "Otherwise, the wall would not have yielded. Canons indeed!"

Chevalyer grinned. "Don't look at us, Matt. Keep at it! No, what are you doing?" he asked in confusion, as he saw the Prince sheath his sword and leave the wall.

Matthieu shook his head, smiling. "Don't worry. I'm just going to get the axe." He walked over to one of their packhorses and removed the axe they used to chop firewood.

Eventually, he had chopped a hole in the wall wide enough for their packhorses, and tall enough for them all to pass through on foot. He wiped the sweat from his face and put the axe away.

"Well done, Highness!" Marc said, and clapped him on the back. "Let's go and find your bride. Are you ready?"

Matthieu flashed a grin. "Nearly." He went back to the wall, searching among the five-petalled white roses for one with a long stem. "Perfect," he said to himself, and used his sword to cut it. He removed the thorns as well.

"If she is as blessed with beauty and character as the stories say she is, then you are a lucky man!" Marc said, when the Prince returned.

"Thanks, Marc. Well," Matthieu said, looking around at the three people he was closest to in his life. "Let's get moving, shall we? We have royalty to visit!"

It was three days journey before they reached the palace. Each night was spent at increasingly noisy inns, where excited innkeepers offered the visiting group free wine and stay, then boasted on signs outside that they had a visiting royal and knights from another kingdom. They normally would have chosen instead to stay at nobles' castles but decided against it. Nobles and castles would not have been anywhere near as interesting.

Each day involved the stares, whispers and delighted shouts of everyone they passed. Some people laughed at the clothes the royal and his knight-companions were wearing, amused by the change in style. The Cadenthen people themselves looked old-fashioned, causing their visitors to marvel on many an occasion.

"Look at this kingdom," Matthieu said softly. "It's like we have travelled back in time."

"It's like a dream," agreed Chevalyer, soaking up the sights around him.

"It's a perfect living example of what life used to be like," Marc said excitedly. "Living history! Imagine the studies that could be made of this place."

Matthieu and Chevalyer glanced at each other and tried not to grimace.

"His topic of choice in conversation," Chevalyer muttered. "He'll never get off it."

Matthieu flashed a grin. He and Chevalyer trotted up in front of the older two knights, leaving a displeased Géraud to deal with Marc's over-enthusiasm.

When the palace was in sight, Matthieu and his companions were met by an official escort. The bearded man bore a shield on his arm, a sign that he too was a knight. He halted right in front of the group and half-bowed to Matthieu – all that he could manage while on his mount.

"Welcome," he said, smiling warmly. He shook hands with Matthieu and each of the other knights in turn. "I am Sir Burdett of Cherault. I am to escort you to the palace."

"Thank you," Matthieu said graciously. "We appreciate it." He introduced himself and his fellow knights.

Sir Burdett fell in line with the group. "You are the first visitors Cadenthen has had in quite a long time. There is much I would like to ask."

Matthieu grinned. "Ask away, Sir Burdett."

"What has been happening in the world?"

Matthieu laughed out loud but in a good-natured way. The sound was full-throated and rich, while the men around him grinned in turn. "That would take a long time to explain, Sir Burdett," Matthieu said, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

Burdett's eyes danced. "Then, Prince Matthieu, perhaps you could tell me some of it." The Cadenthen knight glanced up at the palace gates visible on the horizon. "We have some time before we reach the palace."

"Of course," Matthieu agreed. "Now what in particular would you like to know?"

Sir Burdett pelted Matthieu and his companions with questions, in particular, which kingdoms were allied and which ones were warring.

The bearded knight looked disappointed when he delivered the group to the palace via the stables. "I have other duties to attend to now, but I shall see you all again soon." Burdett shook hands with each of them and with a bow to Matthieu, he walked away whistling.

A man was waiting for them at the entrance. He bowed and introduced himself. "I am Pruitt, servingman to his Royal Majesty, King Berynger. I am to bring you all to the sitting room."

He brought Matthieu and his knight-companions through the hallways of the palace, then stopped in front of a closed door. "How shall I introduce all of you?"

Matthieu told him.

Pruitt knocked on the door and entered. "Your Majesties, the visitors have arrived."

"Bring them in," a male voice commanded.

Pruitt brought the group into the room. Two people aged in their early seventies and dressed in fine linen rose from their chairs. "Your Royal Majesties, King Berynger and Queen Darcelle of Cadenthen, I present the visitors from the neighbouring kingdom of Tharoux." He beckoned Matthieu forward. "His Royal Highness, Prince Matthieu of Tharoux."

Matthieu stepped forward and bowed low to the King and Queen of Cadenthen. "Your Majesties," he said.

King Berynger looked at him in great interest and said, "We are very pleased that you have come to our kingdom, Prince Matthieu."

"Thank you, your Majesty. The honour is all mine." The Prince stepped aside as the servingman introduced the remainder of his group.

"Sir Marc of Tellier, Sir Géraud of Reautel, Sir Chevalyer of Taineau. Knights of the kingdom of Tharoux."

Each of the knights stepped forward and also bowed.

"You are all most welcome in our kingdom," he told them. Berynger then clapped his hands together. "Right! Now that introductions have been made, please sit." He gestured at the extra chairs drawn up around the low table in the middle of the room.

"You must forgive such an informal meeting," he said, as his guests made themselves comfortable. "You shall have a formal Court introduction at tonight's banquet. Preparations have been underway since a messenger first brought news of your arrival to Cadenthen." Berynger looked delighted. "The entire kingdom is excited by your arrival."

"That I can believe, your Majesty," said Matthieu, smiling. He glanced up as servants came into the room and placed wine and platters of cheese, bread and fruit down on the table. "We've had many people come up and talk to us while on journey through your charming kingdom."

Berynger's chest puffed out proudly. "You are very kind, Prince Matthieu. Please, all of you, take some refreshments." He reached out for a cup of wine one of the servants had placed before him. "No doubt you are the prince that is to awaken and marry my Great-Aunt Rosabel. You must have some questions, just as I have many to ask you."

Matthieu was surprised at the words 'great-aunt'. Until now, he had not considered that Princess Rosabel had relatives generations younger than herself. He was only twenty-one and going to marry this elderly King's sixteen-year-old great-aunt.

"Yes," said Matthieu, as he reached out for some grapes. "The question the whole world would like to know. What happened after the curse was realised?"

"Tragic really," said Berynger, shaking his head. "My great-grandfather, King Guillaume, was heartbroken when it happened. Of course, it did not help that his wife Queen Josette and son Prince Lamond blamed him for it. First he burnt the old gamekeeper's quarters that he found his daughter in to the ground. Then he forgot his duty to the kingdom and to family, and spent much of his next thirty years by Princess Rosabel's bedside. Not that she would have ever known he was there, poor man. Prince Lamond, my grandfather, had to take the throne at an early age."

Géraud had just picked up a bread roll and some cheese. "What about the fairy Mérane, your Majesty?" he asked. "What happened to her?"

"That witch!" snorted Berynger. He fell silent and looked irritably into the bottom of his wine cup, before pouring some more himself.

"She never left prison, Sir Géraud," Queen Darcelle answered for her husband. "She died a week before Great-Aunt Rosabel fell asleep. Great-Grandfather Guillaume could not have asked her to undo the curse even if he wanted to. Though, I do not believe she would have."

"What about Oriel?" asked Marc, leaning forward.

"Our angel of destiny," said Berynger. "Great-Grandfather summoned her but there was nothing more she could do. By that time, the wall surrounding the kingdom had grown and become impervious. She was trapped as much as the rest of us." He took another swallow from his cup. "The only good thing to come out of the whole mess was that Cadenthen has not been at war in a century. With the exception of some civil conflicts, it has been a relatively peaceful ruling down the generations. I am to give up the throne to my own oldest child soon."

He shook his head as if to clear it and put his wine cup back on the table. "In any case, do not let me hold you up, young Prince Matthieu. Go upstairs and wake her, and take my servingman Pruitt with you. He will show you where to go and introduce you once she has woken. And do not forget that white rose you seem to keep holding on to."

Matthieu stood up, ignoring everyone's grins and bowed. "Thank you, your Majesty."

The Prince made his exit, pulling the door closed behind him. As he did so, he heard Berynger say excitedly to his companions, "Now, what has been happening in the world?" He smiled. That was the one question that everyone asked them lately.

He turned to the servingman who was standing just outside the door. "Pruitt, can you show me to Princess Rosabel's rooms, please?"

"Of course, your Highness. Follow me."

* * *

**A/N: **Next chappie, Rosabel wakes up and makes some unhappy discoveries. 

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